Gone
by bloodredcherry
Summary: Lord Voldemort starts taking members of the Order prisoner, and putting them in Azkaban. This is Tonks' story. A plot bunny from Read it and let me know what you think!


**GONE**

**Rating**: PG-13 (there's some suggestive language and it's not exactly a happy story)

**Summary**: Lord Voldemort starts taking members of the Order prisoner, and putting them in Azkaban. This is Tonks' story. (A plot bunny from )

**AN:** This idea is from, **Emmylou **on **Plot Bunny #45.** Voldemort starts capturing members of the Order and instead of killing them, locking them in the now empty Azkaban. Describe the story of a captured Nymphadora Tonks.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me! This story is for entertainment purposes only!

-

It's cold, and dark. Those are her first thoughts when she blinks awake.

There's no light at all, and she can't see her hand stilled in front of her face, but she can feel herself trembling, quaking against a frozen wall that bites through her robes. Her hair is matted to her head and when she turns her face to attempt to see where she is, she is blinded by pain. She gasps and drops in a crouch to the ground. She can smell dirt and stone, and when she brings her hand to her face again she can smell the bitter tang of blood.

"Merlin," She rasps into the darkness.

Her mind is cloudy but she remembers screaming, pain and then darkness. There were others with her, Harry, Arthur Weasely, Severus... where were they all now?

She gasps again, and shuts her eyes tight, trying to dam her tears. "Don't think about that," she chides herself, "it won't do you any good." She rubbed a hand across her cheeks, smearing tears with her own blood. What she needed to do was think about where she was.

_Not dead_, she thought darkly_, that's fairly obvious_. There were no familiar smells that she could discern, one simply bled into another; dank musk, mold and mildew, sweat and blood, rock and metal, cold and ice.

_Wait_...Nymphadora Tonks paused, she could hear someone breathing. _Not alone_...She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Instead she held out both her hands and scrambled forward, groping in the darkness for anything that might be an obstacle.

_Are you sure this is a good idea? You have no idea who's breathing that could be. All you know it could be You-Know-Who's._ She shook her head, even after the discovery that Voldemort was alive; she still couldn't bring herself to say his name out loud.

_I don't care_, she thought, whoever it was she had to reach them. Besides, she was relatively certain that whoever was breathing wasn't Lord Voldemort because now she could hear muttering, and those mutterings were strangely familiar.

"Please Merlin," she begged, "please sweet, sweet Merlin--" just as she ran into two metal bars. Her hands curled around the thick steal and suddenly as if a light bulb had gone off overtop her head she knew where she was.

"Azkaban."

She was in a cell in Azkaban, that's where Voldemort had taken her-- them... but how many were there? She stood up suddenly, and due to the wound to the side of her head, pitched forward dizzily banging the other side of her forehead against the thick metal bar.

"Bugger!" She screamed, "Shit! Fuck and bugger bloody all!" She sunk to her knees, as warm blood seeped from the new gash on her forehead. She curled her soiled robe around her hand and pressed it against her forehead. She didn't suppose it was terribly sanitary, but she knew she also couldn't stand to loose anymore blood. She needed to conserve all her strength.

_If he hasn't killed you by now, what is he waiting for?_ The tears came unbidden then, and flowed freely down her chin, dripping onto the floor. She sniffled, and slowly the throbbing in her forehead became almost bearable.

"Hello?"

The voice startled her, and her scream was cut short by her hands clamping over her mouth once more. She had forgotten about the breathing, she'd forgotten anyone else had been in there at all.

"Who is that?" The voice asked, "is anyone there?"

"I'm here," Tonks managed to choke out. "I'm here," she repeated. "Who are you?"

"You tell me first."

Tonks hesitated for only a moment, what else did she have to loose? "Nymphadora Tonks."

There was a pause, then:

"Neville Longbottom."

"Oh Merlin," she sobbed into her hands, it was as if something inside of her cracked; finally it had hit her, this could very well be the end and here she was, captured and locked up inside Azkaban, presumably left for dead-- or worse. Left with no idea of what was happening outside, who was still alive, and who was dead. She was left with the realization that this time Lord Voldemort might win.

"Do you know who I am?"

Tonks nodded, then replied, "yes, Neville. I know who you are." She didn't remember him being there when she fell, who knew how long he had been in here.

She shifted, and crossed her legs, settling onto the cold stone floor. "Are you alright?"

Neville grunted, "pretty sure my arm's broken, the shoulder feels dislocated too... how about you?" He had hit that wall hard, tried to grab for a hold before crumpling onto the ground. He knew he had landed wrong, he would have cried out had he had the chance.

"Cracked my head pretty hard," Tonks replied, she went quiet trying to focus on the rest of her body, "my ribs are sore too, but not broken. Where are you?"

"By the far wall."

"Are you... alone?"

"Far as I know, if I do have a cellmate they haven't woken up yet...that or, they're dead."

A silence fell over them.

"How about you?"

"The bars, and... I think I'm alone. This room is pretty small, I'm sure I would have tripped over them by now if anyone else was in here." Tonks slipped her arm through the bar and stuck it out as far as she could. She swept it around, but felt nothing but the cool air rushing around her.

"Shouldn't there be guards?"

Neville snorted, "I'm sure there are guards, but what's the point of guarding a bunch of disarmed witches and wizards?" He had a good point.

"Is there anyone else?"

Neville didn't speak for a moment. "There has to be."

"Are you certain?"

"We can't be the only ones left."

_Couldn't they be_? Nothing had given Tonks any other idea. There was no indication that there was anyone else besides the two of them; who knows what could have happened to the others.

"What if we are?" Her question hung in the air, and all the questions that followed in both their minds. _What is going to happen to us? Why are we still alive? What about Harry?_

Tonks shivered, she was so cold. Neville was quiet, she could hear him breathing but he didn't say anything more and she didn't disturb him instead she crawled back to where she had came from. When she made it to her corner, she lay on the cold floor, pulling herself into the fetal position she gripped her feet and rested her chin on her knees.

She closed her eyes, doing her best to picture the living room at 12 Grimmauld Place, there's a large fire burning in the fireplace and Tonks is lying at the foot of the hearth, on a thick feather comforter that is smooth like silk under her fingertips. It is a deep violet, which matches her hair which is plaited in a thick braid down her back. She can hear Molly Weasely in the kitchen, humming to herself-- she must be cooking dinner.

She stares into the fire, letting the warmth fall across her face. The living room is much more homely in Tonks' imagination-- how she wishes it would be... could have been.

She hears someone laugh and tears prick her turquoise eyes. Sirius runs around the corner, Harry is laughing with him. Sirius looks over at her and quirks an eyebrow.

"What's the matter with you?"

She can't speak, her mouth is dry like cotton and the tears spill over her cheeks. Harry said something that Tonks didn't catch and then it was just her and Sirius. He walked over to her, and looked down at her with a smirk and sparkling eyes. He nudged her with his foot, of all her relatives she'd liked him the best, always had.

Now he was gone.

She was back in the darkness of the cell; suddenly her ears pick up a noise. It's quiet at first, but then it grows louder. It's a struggle; she can hear loud moaning and the sound of feet scuffling against cobblestones. She lies dead still; still uncertain as to why they are all being brought here alive. She'd always had an overactive imagination and she does not want to give herself the chance to twist her mind around this one.

She strained her ears, trying to see if she could figure out who it was from the grunts and low curses. If it was anyone she knew at all. There was the sound of a cell door opening, the captors still hadn't made a noise and Tonk's turned her head and stared into the darkness. She couldn't see any shapes in front of her, only pitch black.

There was a thud, a crunch the sound of a door slamming and a chain with a lock being pulled and closed in place then silence.

Tonks' was suddenly glad for the fact that she'd been unconscious when she'd been brought in. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she gasped deep breaths to try and regulate it.

Her fingers crawled across the wall, scratching at the stone. Tonks' had never had a panic attack but she imagined this is what it must feel like.

She pushed herself tighter against the back wall, and closes her eyes, willing herself back to the comfort and warmth of the living room.

She's not alone, someone is sitting on the couch and she looks over her shoulder and sees Remus. He doesn't look up, but is staring across the room lost in thought; his hair is tussled and seems to have more gray than usual. She wants to get up from under her blanket and walk over to him, she wants to crawl inside him and figure out what is going on inside his head. He's always so quiet, she saw him smile once when Sirius was alive, and his whole face had lit up. She'd never known it was possible to love someone as much as Remus had loved Sirius and she'd never known grief to be so tangible until Sirius had died.

The warmth from the fire was almost too hot now, but she couldn't turn away. This was her daydream or her night dream (she wasn't sure which it was) she should be able to do whatever she wanted shouldn't she?

_Get up. Move._

She concentrated on moving her big toe; she took her bottom lip into her teeth and gave her left toe a wriggle. As soon as she did Remus looked up and over at her.

"Tonks?"

She let out a short breath, that she knew would condense in the cool air, she didn't want to open her eyes; she wanted to hold onto the warmth of the living room. Without it, there was only darkness, darkness and the fear she'd never again see the light.

Neville was still calling to her, but she ignored him, turning back to the wall she closed her eyes, and dreamt of fire.

-

The end

-

**AN:** Wasn't entirely sure where this was going when I started, and I didn't want it to keep going endlessly without ever finishing-- that seems to happen to a lot of my fics. I'm not sure if this is any good, if I even have some small grasp of Tonks' character. What I really wanted to do was get a feel for isolation, and the fact that Voldemort would likely keep them in the dark, literally and figuratively. He would want to leave them completely helpless. I'm not sure who exactly was brought in either at the end, so you can make your own conclusions about that one. You can also make your own conclusions about who is still alive and who is dead. Azkaban I imagine is a pretty big prison, so there could be people all over the place. I just felt like focusing on a few people... and obviously Tonks from the Plot Bunny Challenge.

Anyway, please let me know what you think, but no flames-- constructive criticism!


End file.
